Author: blessedbytwoboys

I am a stay at home mom of Irish twin boys, working on finishing my MBA, a wife of a hard working project manager and a full-time MBA student as well, a fur mom of a rambunctious chocolate lab, and two crazy tabby cats. Welcome to our journey as we navigate the real roller coaster of raising two children in today's chaotic world!

Before I go down this road, I should start out by saying that I did not attend preschool. I am not sure if it’s because I was at daycare and my parents knew I would learn that way, or if it just wasn’t really a thing when I was growing up. I did attend a Montessori program while we lived with my grandparents, but we lived with them for such a short time, that I barely remember it.

So K turned 3 in July. He’s always been our more easy-going boy, full of laughs, but very much so a mama’s boy. Like I have said, neither of my kids have gone to daycare, and we have never left them with anyone outside of family.

When looking at preschools, I wanted a preschool where I felt the teachers felt like a mom. I didn’t want to take out a second mortgage on my home just to afford a “reputable” program. To me, education starts at home. I am very well invested in their education and learning, as I see it starts with Kyle and I. I wanted something that was a small transition, I didn’t want him going for hours on end, 4 days a week. I just didn’t think he was ready for that. So I found the perfect environment. 2 days a week for 2 hours on Thursdays and Fridays.

I was beyond excited for the time it would give G and I alone to work on things like ABC’s, colors, numbers, etc. I felt like it had been more difficult to master this task than it was with K, maybe a personality thing, or maybe just the fact that at the time G was a newborn and slept a lot. Who knows.

Well, needless to say, preschool has turned into full blown melt downs every Thursday and Friday. It is literally breaking my heart. I hate that he doesn’t want to go. I hate that he cries every day at drop off. I can handle the stares and the pitiful looks I get from parents whose kids happily bounce into the classroom. The teacher even went as far to tell me he “may not be ready”. But I really don’t think he will ever be ready in terms of being away. He calms down immediately upon me leaving and always comes home full of smiles and talks about his friends he played with that day.

But I’m left to sit here and wonder what the solution to all of this is. See, we don’t really think taking him out and waiting a year is going to solve this problem. If anything, we know how smart he is, and I think he will realize what has happened, and come next year we will be doing the same thing. Except next year, he will say “but I didn’t have to go last time…”. On top of the fact that little brother will start next year at preschool. And he won’t even let a stranger touch him without tears and screaming.

I know so many people have their opinion on this. I know a lot of people close to us think I have created “this problem” due to the fact that I have never left them with a stranger, they depend on me too much, blah blah blah…. So what I’m left with is feeling alone emotionally, and I am not saying people don’t care, it’s just not their issue to handle. It’s a hard one for me to handle, because I was never the kid who cried. Even if I was scared, I sucked it up and forged forward. My husband was the kid who hid under his desk and cried every day, in first grade. He would have to be coaxed out with a baseball card from his P.E. teacher. He became the source of laughter in the teacher’s lounge. I don’t want that for my boys. But I wouldn’t change anything about them. They are who God intended them to be. I’m so sick of people trying to fit a 3 year old into a mold. He’s 3, not 30. Let him be 3!

It took me almost three decades of a lot of emotions to realize how true this is. But in today’s world where boundaries are even more obscure and diminished by social media, our smart phones, etc., how on earth is it possible to raise a child who establishes strong boundaries from the beginning?

Why is this is important? I can only tell you why not creating healthy boundaries impacted myself to illustrate the importance.

Firstly, over the years I learned to say yes to everything. Even to the detriment of myself, and I firmly believe my husband is the same way, though he would never agree. This has meant weekend after weekend of driving all over the place to make sure we make it to everyone’s big event. It didn’t matter how many times these people had flaked on us. We had to make it to every last event. I felt like I couldn’t say no. But here’s the flip side, most people flake on us. This left me feeling hurt, bitter, and resentful of those relationships. So over the past year, I have really worked on not over committing myself.

Another issue I feel this applies to is any working adult. Kyle and I are perfectionists, both type A personalities, and while at times it can be draining, I do firmly believe this is why we are successful. But, and this is a big but (not trying to be funny), it creates an unhealthy working relationship with people we work with. Now, over the years it has proven to be our bosses in some cases, sometimes it’s our coworkers, or sometimes it’s both. A prime example of this is when all my coworkers bailed on my boss to go home early. I was one of two with kids, my other coworkers kids were older. But somehow he expected me to stay, because I couldn’t say no to him. I stayed hours late, not because I wanted to, not because it was my work package, because he knew he could take advantage of my lack of boundaries. And I let him.

These are small instances of why having boundaries is important. But how do we make sure K and G have this down at an early age? I know a lot of this is going to be a learning process for them. I also know they will do what we do, and that’s why I find it so important for K and I to be the best versions of ourselves we can possibly be. But this one is a hard one for us…

I love Fall. For some reason, one of my favorite holidays has always been Halloween. I am not morbid, I just like scary stuff. But being a parent and the holiday season can bring on stress that you never knew existed in your childhood days. Last year I decided to make our Halloween costumes, we were the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Wow, what an undertaking for such mediocre costumes. The boys sure looked cute, but this year they insisted on being Minions. They want hubby to dress up like Gru(?). I’m pretty excited to see them in the adorable costumes.

Part of the Halloween fun is the pumpkin patch. And since we live near multiple it’s kind of fun to see what all the farms have on hand. We have been three times just this year, once was for K’s preschool. Friday we went as a family, and yesterday we had our Godson’s 7th birthday party, and it was a blast. Friday was a beautiful day, so we decided hubby would take work off early, and take the boys.

I couldn’t believe the amount of things they had for littles to do. I was really impressed. Duck races, an entire truck pit with plenty of trucks to dig in for all littles. They had tons of old props around the area that made for some great pictures. They had this blob jump thing, which I have a love/hate relationship with because most of the kids on there act like complete idiots without any regard for their surroundings. It’s easier to hold the boys’ hands to help keep them upright, and safe. They had bubbles, a tire mountain, petting zoo, et cetera. This place is by far my favorite we have been to over the last couple of years. It’s so much fun watching the pure joy the boys have over this stuff. It literally makes my heart smile.

Here are all three of my guys participating in the duck races. The boys thought it was so cool that Daddy could do it so quickly. He’s their hero!

G was so serious about these races! He would get down and sprint to make sure he could get the duck, and he would sprint back to Kyle to get him to do it again, and again, and again…

And then they found the tractor/truck pit. Honestly, I think they would have never left if we didn’t entice them with picking out their pumpkins.

All he ever wants to do is play with trucks.

I feel so lucky, blessed, and more. Happy Pumpkin Carving to you and yours!!!

I remember this being a popular saying in elementary school. Of course the boys’ version was different. We were listening to the news this morning and it was a segment on Jennifer Lawrence’s essay. K asked me what they were talking about, and I was honest with him. I told him she and many women were frustrated that the men they worked with made more money. In simple three year old fashion he said “that’s silly…” and on he went with playing. If you haven’t read the essay, I highly recommend reading it. She discusses the gap in pay between men and women in Hollywood. And with all things in life, I find you can relate to this to “normal folk” like me.

If you have read any of my previous posts you know that I worked as an industrial engineer at a large aerospace company. Now, I actually have a degree in International Business and Spanish, but the way the company differentiates pay between engineering and business is fair. The degreed engineers make more on base pay per salary. But, we did the same work, and unless you told people, no one other than yourself and your boss knew if you held an engineering degree, or a business degree. Side note, I realize after college, engineering should have been my field of choice, but I thought they were all “nerdy” and “boring”. Now I realize how “nerdy” and “boring” I am. I digress…

What stood out to me working at the company I did, in the field that I did, was that I needed to work one hundred percent harder, and one hundred percent smarter than any and all of my male counterparts if I wanted to be respected. And it wasn’t due to the mysogynistic attitude of the people I worked around or with. It was just “facts of life” there.

I’m okay with working smarter and harder. See, if we’re being honest, my dad treated me as if I was one of the boys. I am the only girl, and I am the youngest, so by way of life, my dad probably never even thought about how he should treat me. I was expected to help out in the yard, help carry my moms luggage, and I wasn’t allowed to drive alone until I knew how to change a tire and replace the oil in my car. I have always appreciated that of my dad. Looking back, he probably did think about how he was going to set me up for success, and he probably knew I would be living “in a man’s world” so I might as well learn some things along the way. So when I went out into the big bad world, the thought never even crossed my mind that I would be treated differently solely based on the fact that I carry two X chromosomes, rather than just one.

Isn’t that so cute and naive wrapped up in one big and shiny bow. Not really, but the things I am about to tell you, have taught me a lot about who I want to be in the corporate world, should I return, and the type of boys we want to raise. When I first started working on the production floor, I had older men tell me to be careful, that it was like “working in a prison if you’re a decent looking female”. At first it didn’t bother me, because I thought the novelty of me being new would wear off. But it didn’t. It just continued to get worse. I would have guys jump in an elevator just to talk to me. Even though I only had to ride the elevator up five floors, they would ask me questions like “your husband lets you out of the house to work here?” “If you were my wife, I would never let you work.” And the list goes on. In fact, when I was an intern, I had a “mentor” that was supposed to drive me to multiple locations, and at one point on a drive he took a shortcut. Needless to say, I prayed my way through an entire phone call with my dad, when the driver didn’t realize we were on a dead-end.

And then I got pregnant with my first, and I really thought, “great, now they’ll leave me alone!” Boy was I wrong. Strangers, complete strangers started to touch me. And then men and women would stop me to tell me “how huge” I was getting. There were days when I would go home and cry my eyes out at the things people said to me. And when I would tell people just how degrading and hurtful things said to me, they would laugh in my face. “Oh don’t worry they just say that to you because you’re young and beautiful.” Wait, I’m sorry, did they just justify sexual harassment based on the way I look? I’m so confused how that even remotely makes that right…

And the list goes on. When I got back from my maternity leave, I had people chase me down to ask details of the birth. People I had never seen before! And I had men who actually told me that they were “disappointed I came back to work, because nothing is more important than your son.”

While my lead was gone on a business trip, my boss asked me to take over his position. I was on a managerial development list for strong and ambitious candidates whom were considered to be management material. I graciously accepted this task, and was really humbled they considered me. All the while I continued to do my job and more, while pregnant and puking, pumping on my breaks, and stayed later than most of my colleagues.

After the birth of my second son, we had changes in our group. The lead position was open, and a coworker of mine was telling me how my boss wanted me to take the position. I was a wreck, because I was really honored, but I knew we had been considering me staying home, so I figured, let’s just see what happens. This was the week before I was set to return, and my boss hadn’t contacted me. Well, you know how this story goes. A guy got the job. And when I returned to work, my boss brought up the situation. His words were basically this ,” well you were the first choice, but then you had a baby, and you know how that goes…” The politically correct me said “so because I chose to had a child, I’m no longer eligible for leadership positions?” What I said in my head was “listen here f*****, I have saved your tail and this groups tail countless times, and this is the s*** I am forced to listen to?!!!!”

I chose not to go to Human Resources, why, because I didn’t want to start a fire… how insanely stupid is that? I didn’t want to start a fire… I didn’t add the fuel. Why was I scared of backlash for sexist crap I had to deal with. I should have. And here’s why. In a field where women barely exist, some day, some where, some girl like me will want to start a family. Or maybe she’s already pregnant. And I want her to know that decision should not affect her like it did me.

I know I can’t change the mind of the world. But my hope is that my husband and I can raise two strong willed boys to treat everyone as their equal. I can only hope our boys treat people with the respect and dignity until proven otherwise. Life is too short to only see the world in one way.

“You’re so lucky!” Really? Is it luck, or is perseverance coupled with hard work, and a lot of planning?

I’m going to rewind the clock to address this statement when I was a working mom. “You’re so lucky you have a job that pays so well.” Absolutely, I was so lucky I did have that job. But let me tell you what went into finding that job. Four years of college, paid by myself and my parents. Four years I worked very hard. Every summer I worked my tail off to make money so that I could limit the amount of student loans I would need to take out. Because I was required to study abroad, that meant I needed to find the funds for this. Again, working, and student loans. I also managed to lock down a great internship right before the Great Recession. I was hoping that would turn into a job offer, but given the economy, barely anyone that summer got a job offer to return after graduation.

After I graduated, I went back to working retail, I hate working retail. And from there I got a job at a public relations firm, as an operations clerk. Putting away mail, emptying dishwashers, and things I never saw myself doing after holding that degree. But hey, I come from a blue-collar family, and my parents always have taught me that no one is EVER above a job. So I worked my tail off there too, for a year cleaning up after grown adults. I began to resent the position, and new public relations wasn’t my cup of tea for a social invert, like myself. I decided to go back to school while I was looking for a new position and working. I always knew I wanted to get my MBA, I just didn’t think it would be so soon. In the middle of our new and busy life, we saved and saved for our first down payment on our house. We purchased our first home at 23 and 24. It was an incredible feeling. We paid off our car early. And we began to chip away at student loans.

And finally, applying elsewhere worked. I landed back at the company I had interned for right before my senior year. Hallelujah! I almost doubled my salary, so to say this was a huge weight lifted off our shoulders was an understatement! This job was working in industrial engineering. Finally, I had found others like me. Detail oriented, analytical, and very practical. While pregnant I was constantly harassed about the way I looked. I woke up between the hours of 2AM-4AM to get to work. Yes, you heard me, while most of my friends were still closing down bars, I was getting up for work. I climbed inside huge airplanes at 9 months pregnant. I stood for hours on a freezing cement floor to watch men and women perform their jobs. So much so that I went into preterm labor twice with each kiddo. But, after bed rest got me to 36.5 weeks, I always made the decision to go back to work. Why? Because I would rather use my maternity leave to be with each new baby. And it meant I was making money to pay off more debt, or save for emergencies.

Worked the day before this, crawling around inside a fuel cell

After returning to work with K, and finding out we were pregnant shortly after he was three months, we realized really quickly our home wasn’t the best option for a growing family. We had worked really hard on saving money, even with adding the cost of child care to our plate of bills. We had to wait 8 months before we could even purchase a home, due to the tax benefit we had received from purchasing our first home. So we focused on what would give us the best return on our home. Minimal updates and painting to make the house look a bit more modern.

Four months later we found the house we wanted to call home, and waited for it to be built. Six months later we sold our home, put an extended closing on it, and never looked back. We were 26 and 27 at the time. I was on bed rest with G, and life was insane. We saved every penny we could. When given the opportunity we worked overtime and sometimes my husband took on side jobs to make extra money was well.

And then, I quit my job six months later. And our family was forced to live on a different, much tighter budget. And that’s okay too. We make it work. And now I hear things like “not everyone gets to stay home, you’re so lucky!” Absolutely, but let me tell you, little luck went into the decision. We saved the money we had made from the profit of the sale of our first home. We cut down on expenses like our cable, eating out, et cetera. We have gone on two vacations since 2010. We paid for cash for both of those vacations. Every tax return is used to save money or pay for something we have planned out well in advance. I cut everyone’s hair, other than my own to save that money. I can’t remember the last time we went to a coffee stand. I don’t get my nails done, ever. I think I have had 2 pedicures since my kids were born. Not to say it was a regular thing before, but I definitely would have been more open to the idea. I shop for sale items. I don’t buy something at full price. New cars? Nope, not the responsible thing to do right now. Vacation, not happening, because it’s not within our budget right now. We plan camping trips instead. We eat in 95% of our meals. G gets almost all of K’s hand me downs. I cloth diapered to help save money. What I am saying is we make a lot of sacrifices and plan ahead to make this “want” a reality. If we wouldn’t have planned, it would never have been a reality.

I know that some people, no matter how hard they work, and how many hours they work this could and will never be a reality. Or maybe on the flip side it’s just not financially doable for both parents to work, because daycare costs more than one person will make. What I am saying is, I always try and applaud people’s efforts more than their output. I don’t know how this will be received, just remember every one is doing the best with what they have, and don’t minimize their effort.

As with all things in life, I look to find balance in a chaotic world. Being fit is hard work with all other things thrown at you. Before we made the choice to have kids I promised myself I would get fit. I would take the dog for a nice run, and come back and do a HIIT work out. And I looked great, and I felt great. I got pregnant the first month off of birth control, and then we had a miscarriage. And that was incredibly hard. Two months later we found out we were expecting Kamden. I ate healthy and because I worked as an Industrial Engineer, I spent a lot of time walking and on my feet. I gained 39 lbs, and gave birth to an almost 10 lb baby! I laugh when I see this picture of me 13 or 14 weeks pregnant and feeling HUGE. Oh how silly and self-absorbed was I?!

Three months later we found out we were expecting Grayson. I felt terrified, I didn’t think my body could do that again. I thought my body was gone forever. This time I ate Paleo, because I had done some research, and many women said they had an easier birth and recovery. This was important to me, because our first labor and delivery was scary, more difficult than it probably should have been, and the recovery was also a trying and terrifying time. This time I gained 29 lbs and gave birth to almost an 8 lb baby. I will say my labor and recovery were substantially easier, and I felt like I was up and running much quicker this time. Maybe that’s because I had a 1 year old to chase around

With both boys I felt like breast feeding helped immensely, but the second time around the weight felt different. And then a year later I learned about diastasis recti. I had a friend who is a PT check me, and sure enough, I had almost a 3 finger gap. I wish I would have known so many different things before having kids. Postparum care being one of them!

Now, here we are two years later, and I want my old self back. I don’t care if I look like a model. I don’t care if I look like what society deems to be thin enough or pretty enough, I just know I don’t feel good about how I look. And to me, that’s all that matters. The scale has never mattered.

So here I am on a journey to find what works for me as a mom of two toddler boys, who is also working on finishing her MBA, and possibly soon returning to work. It’s a lot on my plate, but I know I can do this. I have to, for myself, and myself only. I have already committed to two days of eating under my calorie intake for 21 Day Fix. I have exercised both days. And that’s all that matters to me. For months I have felt tired, and worn down. I think a lot of it has to do with the lack of exercise and the junk I eat. But I can’t and won’t diet. I will eat things that aren’t good for me. It’s all in moderation, and that’s what has been lacking in my life a lot.

In today’s world, where sports is so much a focal, I often find myself thinking about the perfect balance of raising two young boys in that world. What do I mean? I mean, how do we convey that we too love sports, but we don’t always love what it sells, and we don’t always love every player. I’m talking players who use drugs, players who physically beat their significant others, and players who play dirty. I want my boys to idolize the man behind the jersey for who is AND what he stands for, not just the athlete on the field.

I want to make it clear that my husband and I both grew up around sports. We both come from athletic families. We both played multiple sports at very competitive levels. And we were pretty good too. I firmly believe growing up in a competitive environment taught us both a lot about being good leaders, what team work looks like, and many moral and ethical dilemmas along the way. Not to mention, we were both so heavily involved in activities that we never had time for trouble. My point in all of this is, I’m a big advocate in being involved in any extracurricular activities of your choosing. We have no problem with sports. We love them.

But my whole point in this post is to get the dialogue started in that I want my boys to idolize men who value education, high morals, and whose actions who speak louder than words. I’m not saying there are not men out there in the NFL, MLB, NBA, etc. who do not possess some, all, or more of these characteristics, but I feel the overall majority of these players care about their paycheck and the material possessions the paycheck allows them to acquire. And that is not reality. Signing a four year contract for $87 million dollars is not reality. Having a net worth of $165 million dollars is not reality. Buying a Lamborghini, not a reality. Homes that boast over 16, 000 square feet is not reality. If that is your reality one day boys, I expect a room there!

So what is it I want the boys to value?

Firstly, I want them to value themselves. What do I mean? Find out what your strengths are. If you know anything about me, you will hear me say one thing, “call me slow, call me ugly, but don’t you dare call me stupid.” Why? Because I have always, always valued my intelligence above all else. You can fake being pretty (it takes some time and money), but you can’t fake being smart. Whatever the boys strengths may be, I hope they use them to their advantage. You’re good at math, choose a profession that uses math. You’re good with people, become a salesperson.

Secondly, be a good person when no one else is watching. See a dog on the road, be that person who stops to help it get home safely. Your friends mom is dying, please bring them dinner one night. Being a good person is priceless.

Never stop learning. I would love for them to go to college, I think it’s afforded both my husband and I with opportunities we wouldn’t have had. But if college isn’t for them, go to trade school, find an apprenticeship that makes you feel alive. And when you’ve found a job you think you love, keep learning. Utilize any benefits that may come your way to continue your education. I don’t care if you’re 70.

Be true. Be a faithful significant other. Be there always for your kids. If you find yourself single over the years, be the friend a friend would like to have.

Have a strong inner moral compass, because believe me, over the years you will need it. People will take any chance to cut you down, make you feel small, but don’t you ever stoop to their level. But don’t you let them win either, you kill them with kindness, intellect, but don’t you ever cheat.

I don’t have all the parenting answers, far from it, but I do know it’s a constant evolution, one we are constantly learning from. I’ll let you know in about fifty years how successful we were, or weren’t.

Right now, we are just happy one is no longer crying at preschool drop off!